Why would you seek to bind me against my will?
Chapter 3 - Part 2 (Voyage of the Dawn Breaker
“Are we going inside, Mac Draoidheachd?” Dearg whispered as she watched Vuuroena. The young spell blade stood before a plain wooden door, beyond which lay the council chamber. She was staring at the door as if it were a mountain in her way. We should go inside, but what will Mathair think?
Rhyslin calmly watched her momentarily, then took three quiet steps until he stood behind her. “If you would like, we can enter without you,” he whispered as he reached out to her.
Vuuroena started as she felt his hand on her shoulder. “No,” she hissed, “I am just …” Afraid of how Mathair will react.
He leaned forward and commented, "“here is nothing to fear. Fear stops you from thinking. A lack of thought leads to a lack of action. Face your fear; let it pass through you. Once the fear is gone, only calm will remain.”
She listened attentively to him, her fear receding as she absorbed his words. She nuzzled her cheek against his knuckles. Thank you, Aon Socair[1].
At her slight nod, Rhyslin withdrew his hand and watched her open the door and walk inside. She must have told them he was outside, for when he walked through the doorway, he found the eight women staring at him. A quick search of the faces conveyed the mood of the room. Vuuroena was standing in front of Ilyriatri with her head bowed.
After looking up to find Rhyslin standing there, she nodded and pulled her daughter behind her.
Natolie glanced up at Rhyslin, then cast her eyes to Marcus. Seeing the slight frown on his face, she lowered her head, a blush spotting her cheeks as she hurried to his side and dropped to her knees.
Allanagh paled slightly and retreated out of Rhyslin's line of sight. Is he mad? She wondered as she felt his prana slice through the room. No, he's not angry; he's disappointed.
Flur's eyes widened in fear as she felt the same icy prana. When his eyes caught hers, she suddenly knew how it felt to be a rabbit when a wolf caught it.
“No,” Allanagh squeaked, drawing his attention back to her. “Please, Mac Draoidheachd, don't hurt Flur. She … She ...” She almost knelt as his eyes settled on her.
When he spoke, they could hear his disappointment. “I would never hurt a woman without just cause.” He glanced at Flur, then back to Allanagh. “Especially not one who watched over me for three days.” Without looking away from the Ciad-Ghin queen, he commanded, “Go, stand by your mathair.” The golden-haired princess nodded and, shaken, moved to stand behind Allanagh.
Sensing furtive movement to his right, he looked at the two taghta women. “Lilly, Ana. Have a seat. We will discuss the proper roles of the chosen.”
“Of course, Mac Draoidheachd, it shall be as you wish,” Chantico's chosen whispered as she offered a half-bow.
Ana's jewelry chimed as she gracefully knelt before him and spread her legs wide. “Forgiveness, please, Mac Draoidheachd,” she whimpered, bowing her head.
He ignored both taghta as he caught sight of a chagrined Ciad-Ghin in mountain garb. “Should I be surprised or disappointed, Mayana?”
The queen of the Mountain people arched a slender eyebrow as she replied. “What was I to do, Mo dìonadair[2]? I was summoned here by a' Mathair.”
“I see,” he acknowledged. “Should I take it that you attempted to dissuade them from this foolishness?” Her strained smile provided the answer he expected, and he turned from Mayana to look at the goddess before him. “Don't even think about it,” he said as the goddess raised her hand. She met his gaze and managed to look embarrassed as he approached her, whispering reverently. “Gràdhach, dàimheil, màthair, ban-dia[3].”
When he came to a halt mere inches from her, he inquired, “Why would you seek to bind me against my will?”
The goddess drew herself to her full height and met his gaze. “I want what is best for you, mo leanabh[4].”
“What if what is best for me is to make my own ...” he sighed softly. “Let us look at this thing you were working on.” He reached past the goddess and picked up the papers on the table. As he read the contents, one brow, then the other raised slightly. “I'm confused.” He looked over at Marcus. “We wiped out an Orcan War Band, right?”
“That's correct, why?” The Ranger leaned forward as he reached for the documents.
“Because according to that, the Ciad-Ghin have surrendered to the saor-shealbhan and will give me a tribute.” Rhyslin rubbed his forehead as pain blossomed between his brows. “And that tribute is my selection of women to claim.” He massaged the spot between his eyes with the heel of his palm until the pain receded. “This will never do. We are going to rewrite this so that it makes sense.” He gestured to the three Ciad-Ghin queens and then pointed at the table. “Ladies, please have a seat and make yourselves comfortable.” He reached for a chair and sank into it. The three women looked at the goddess before moving to sit facing him on the other side of the table. Flur and Vuuroena glanced at each other and then moved to sit behind their mothers.
The goddess tilted her head in his direction. “Where should I sit?”
Rhyslin covered his right eye with the palm of his right hand. “Do you want an honest answer, Mathair?”
The goddess examined the man she called her son. She could see his constant pain, which led to his current stress, fatigue, and tight muscles. “My poor child,” she wanted to reach out and comfort him. “I always want the truth, mo mhac gaolach[5].”
Rhyslin drew a slow, deep breath, then slowly let it out. “I would like you to sit under Dearg's tree and spend time with her. I think she's got questions about a land with no trees.” When the goddess frowned, he continued, “Mathair, let me take care of this. Afterward, I promise that I will talk to you.”
“As you wish, my child,” she nodded and followed the dryad out of the council chamber.
[1] Calm One, Vuuroena’s name for Rhyslin
[2] My protector
[3] Beloved, caring, mother, goddess
[4] My child
[5] My beloved son
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